Part 141 Not paralyzed just stressed


Dr. Be- gives me the right diagnosis. At least it is a more hopeful offering, and I will grab on to that any day. She feels the vocal cord is just temporarily stressed due to the prolonged swelling, and should respond positively to a procedural injection. A general anesthesia and 30 minute session should do it. She will have her staff set it up soon. Dr. Be- directs us to go to the hospital to get the process started. We are elated at the sudden change in fortune!

On the drive to our same hospital (where she, as Dr. Bl- has privileges), I notice that my voice has returned strong and clear. A premonition? Positive thinking on steroids? At any rate, hear it is. We check in for signing pre-op forms, vital signs, etc. A medical doctor who seems to be just strolling through looks me over and is immediately quite concerned. He insists that I am dehydrated and need to go to the ER. Before I know what is happening, I am in a wheelchair and being pushed out of the door. We check in, an IV is hooked up, and fluids are shooting through my body. I stay in an observation room until 2:30 a.m., after which I am taken to a semi-private room. I normally insist on a private room, but we are desperate for something. (What does semi-private mean anyway? If two people are together, it is public, not private). A young man is already in the room. At daybreak he is talking on the phone, calling half of Houston to describe his plight, which sounds like a hernia. He is released soon, though, and the place is mine.

Dr. Bl- comes around in the late morning, confirming my dehydration. She, like Dr. Be-, believes the vocal cord procedure will strengthen my voice and make me be able to swallow again. For the rest of the afternoon I periodically throw up bile at unexpected times. I am feverless until early evening. We are attended to by a kind young nurse who impresses me with her knowledge. My blood pressure is a decent 101/59, up from the earlier 79/56. We wait until evening until we tire of following protocol and discharge ourselves.

I feel better at home, but I always am better the further I am from a hospital. I think even being in a foxhole with bullets zipping overhead would be an improvement.